


Endurance

by DarkHeartInTheSky



Category: Jak and Daxter
Genre: Angst, Confrontations, Jak II, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:21:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkHeartInTheSky/pseuds/DarkHeartInTheSky
Summary: Daxter confronts Samos about hiding the truth from them.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	Endurance

**Author's Note:**

> am I really out here, writing Jak and Daxter fanfic, in the year of our Lord 2020?
> 
> ... 
> 
> guess so.
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Daxter can’t sleep.

Things are finally calm. Kor is dead, and without their leader, the surviving metalheads are clueless and lost, not daring an attack so soon after such a defeat.

The Baron too is gone, and Ashelin’s first order as the city’s new leader was the immediate disbandment of the Krimzon Guard. The streets are no longer flooded with the red, faceless suits. The people can walk without fear.

Haven City is the safest it’s been in years. Certainly the safest since they landed in this strange place almost three years ago. So much has changed, and Daxter still isn’t sure he understands everything completely. One moment, he and Jak are climbing their way through the metalhead nest, the next, Kor is prattling on and on about destinies, paradoxes, time travel— saying that the child the Underground had been protecting all this time was Jak. That Jak was born in this cruel, awful place and sent to the past with the Shadow as his guide.

Daxter’s ears lay low, pressed against his skull.

Daxter rises and falls with Jak’s chest as he sleeps, but Jak is not relaxed. His muscles are still tense, and his fingertips brush against the barrel of the gun on the floor; ready for anything. Daxter’s nose twitches, smelling the dark eco that clings to Jak’s bones, and when he concentrates really hard, he can feel the pulse of that darkness.

Daxter’s angry. He’s pissed. All his time in Haven City, the only things he could think about were survival and Jak. He never had the luxury to think about anything else.

Now that the waters have settled, his mind is free to roam, to think, to remember, and so many things finally slot into place: epiphany after epiphany, words said long ago finally coming around and making sense.

He can’t sleep.

There’s movement downstairs in the dining room of the Naughty Ottsel. Daxter’s ears twitch, recognizing the footsteps. His teeth clench together. Slowly, he moves off Jak’s chest and hops to the floor, scuttering on all fours down the stairs into the bar. He hopes onto the bar and sees Samos the Sage sitting on a stool, drinking a glass of green eco.

“Daxter,” he says, with thinly veiled annoyance. “Need help checking for fleas?” After all this time, after everything Daxter’s helped accomplish, he still can’t get an ounce of respect.

“How ‘bout you get the maggots out of your ears first?”

They stare at each other hard for a long time, Daxter unwillingly to relent.

“You knew,” he says, eventually, not able to hold it back. “All this time, you knew what would happen to us.”

“You were paying attention. Congratulations!”

“You knew I was gonna turn fuzzy and you— you knew what they were gonna do to Jak. You set us up!”

It’s surprising how quickly everything comes back now that he no longer is ridden with anxiety about what’s lurking around every corner.

“When the rift opened,” Daxter continues, “you said ‘so, this is how it happened.’ You’ve known. You’ve always known!”

Samos nods. Daxter’s fur stands on end and he can’t help the growl that tears out his throat. There’s so much anger weighing at his heart, but there’s also such a profound sadness for all the suffering he and Jak have endured. He wants to scream, but uncontrollably, what comes out is a pitiful cry.

“How could you?”

Samos glances down at his eco and takes a long sip. “The first time we met was when you and Jak returned from scouting Dead Town. Torn had told me much about you. And of course, your reputations preceded you. Rumors spread faster than disease than in the slums. A dark eco monster escaping from the Baron’s prison? That could not be ignored. Jak’s vendetta against Baron Praxis was good for us. The enemy of my enemy, you see. And it was obvious that we were losing the war on both sides — to the KGs and the metalheads.”

Daxter taps his foot impatiently. He wonders if he bites Samos if the geezer will talk faster.

“Without that dark eco monster, the metalheads would have won, and we would all be dead. Now that the younger versions of myself and Jak have been sent many years to the past, the time loop is complete, and we can all rest safely for the first time in centuries.”

“Everyone except for Jak, right?”

Samos says nothing and avoids Daxter’s eye.

“All that time — all these years you spent ‘training’ us, you could really look him in the eye, knowing what they were gonna do to him? He was a kid!”

Samos slams his glass down on the counter. The vibrations make Daxter shake, but he stands his ground, imploring Samos with his gaze that never breaks.

“You threw him in the lions’ den! You’re no better than Praxis or Erol or Kor. You didn’t say anything! You helped them pump him full of that crap.”

Samos glares at Daxter. “You’re still such a child. Insolent brat. Or, should I say, rat. War does not discriminate. Everyday good men, good women, innocent children died by the jaws of metalheads. Many of those were my friends. Many were not. Did they deserve to be torn to shreds? Jak was our only hope of defeating that evil; and he could only do it infected with the dark eco. If one man must suffer for the good of the world, then so be it.”

Daxter almost couldn’t speak; a rare phenomena for him. He stuttered and growled, feeling for the first time, like a true animal. “He looks up to you. All this time, he thought your insufferable ‘wisdom’ and ‘training’ was you looking out for him. But really, you’ve only seen him as a tool. All those scraped knees and bonked heads you healed, pretending like you cared, when really you were just biding your time for him to really suffer.”

Samos sighs and rolls his eyes. “Think of me what you will. I don’t really care about the opinions of a mangy rodent; though I must say this form still suits you better. You certainly smell better. Humanity survives. The time loop has come full circle; I know not what will come from here on out, but I know, I will not do anything different. Nor should I. We endured. Jak will too.”

Daxter screams. He grabs the eco bottle Samos was drinking from and throws it. It shatters against the ground and the eco floats towards Samos, sinking into his skin. How can Samos talk like that? How can he be so blase about what they’ve been through? About what Jak’s been through? Daxter sees it— he’s been there when Jak can’t hold the dark eco back any longer. Daxter’s been there when the spell finally ends, and Jak is so dizzy he can’t stand, and he just slumps to the ground, holding his head and dry heaving. Daxter’s been there when Jak has nightmares and cold sweats. Daxter’s been there when Jak needs some extra help patching up a wound, and he has to be careful not to touch any of the old scars. Daxter’s been there at every recoil Jak makes whenever someone mutters eco freak. Daxter’s seen his once easy-going friend turn into stone, smiles few and far between.

The worst part is, Samos understands. He gets it. He knows all of this. He’s seen it too.

He just doesn’t care.

“Well,” Daxter says, shakily, “I hope you can sleep well at night. I’ll tell ya one thing: you sure belong in this dump.”

Samos says nothing. Daxter’s glad for it. He doesn’t think he can hold back his rage any longer. If he has to hear one more word out of Samos’s mouth, he’ll snap.  
He scurries back up the stairs to the bedroom, and finds his place on top of Jak’s chest. He curls into a tight circle, still trembling.

Jak’s hand comes up and pets the length of his spine. “Where’d you go?” he says, voice muffled with sleep.

Daxter could tell him. Daxter should tell him. He doesn’t know if Jak has quite put everything together yet— surely, his mind has been in other places, and Daxter can’t blame him. But Jak should know. He needs to know.

Daxter opens his mouth, and the words won’t come out. Jak has always idolized Samos, for some reason. Even now, he still does. One of the first things Jak did after defeating Kor was to thank Samos for raising him. Jak’s had so much taken away from him. Can Daxter really take away something else?

Daxter swallows. “Just went for a little fresh air. You really know how to stink up a place.”

Jak snorts, and there’s the barest hint of a smile.

Daxter sighs and closes his eyes. His blood is still pumping, hot and angry. He didn’t think he could hate Samos more, but tonight proved him wrong.

But he can’t wipe that smile from Jak’s face.

Instead, he tries to relax, tries to sleep, and tries to focus on the thump-thump of Jak’s beating heart. Samos may be an ass, but Jak’s alive and better than he’s been in a long time. And as long as they’re together— the dynamic duo— they can handle whatever else comes their way. They'll endure.

They have to.


End file.
